


Small Steps

by Artemis_Day



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, KZ Secret Santa 2013, Oneshot, Pre-Zutara, giftfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:30:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Day/pseuds/Artemis_Day
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a while, Katara banned Zuko from helping with the chores.  It wasn’t that she didn’t need the help, it was more that Zuko was the last person Katara wanted anywhere near her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Steps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skylar0Grace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylar0Grace/gifts).



> This is a gift for skylar0grace as part of the Zutara Secret Santa event on Livejournal. 
> 
> Hope you like it!

After a while, Katara banned Zuko from helping with the chores.  It wasn’t that she didn’t need the help- La only knew Sokka ate his full every night at dinner.  It was more that Zuko was the last person Katara wanted anywhere near her right now. 

She told him in the middle of washing dishes, when his middling experience with manual labor led him to drop and smash a plate.  It was, of course, an accident, and Zuko was on his hands and knees without delay picking up every piece.  A more forgiving side of Katara could have acknowledged that and given him another chance, but Katara had expended all of her peacemaking energy where Zuko was concerned.  He’d already taken her offer of friendship and thrown it in her face.  With fire.  How was anyone supposed to give second chances after that?

He took being exiled from cleaning duty well enough, in that he didn’t argue with her and spent the next few days training with Aang and making small talk with Sokka and Toph.  The latter appeared to be getting easier for him by the day, until they were joking around like old pals.  Conversely, Katara got angrier every time he shared a laugh with Sokka or took a playful jab from Toph.  That they could just forget everything he did to them and act like it never happened was beyond infuriating.  She could freeze the entire ocean with the force of her frustration and rage alone, forget about waterbending. 

On some level, she knew she was being petty.  Zuko still owed her a huge apology (and the jury was out on if she’d ever accept it), but the little voice of reason in her head told her that she was going too far.  Trying to make an outcast of him wasn’t the answer; it only made her as bad as she thought him.  That voice sounded an awful lot like Aang.  Katara listened to it about as much as she did the real Aang whenever he praised Zuko’s bending.  She let the little six year old girl who used to stick her tongue out at boys come out and kick proverbial dirt in his face.  His many failures to connect with her were fuel, though lately they didn’t give her the kind of satisfaction she expected.

In fact, they never really did.

The sky was making a slow change from yellow to blue.  Within the hour, it would deepen to black.  Only the stars above would be there to guide them.  The new moon was never a happy time for a waterbender, and Katara was no exception.  Being near the ocean helped bridge the gap in her soul, but she still felt that loss.  A few loose droplets of water swirled around her fingers, going into the grass as she cleaned off the last cup.  The dishes were next, and significantly dirtier.  Surprisingly Aang’s was the worst tonight.  Their meal had been an old time Fire Nation dish Aang used to eat one hundred years ago.  After three helpings, he’d passed out, completely exhausted.  The day’s firebending practice must have been uncharacteristically strenuous.  Katara thought she’d heard Zuko muttering something about Aang pushing himself too hard while helping Sokka put him to bed. 

Or at least she would think that, if she was thinking about Zuko at all.

Which she wasn’t.

Katara shook her head violently, dislodging any and all images of Zuko’s face that might have crossed her mind’s eye.  She reached blindly into the water, only to jerk back at the feeling of something sharp slicing through her skin.  It wasn’t the best reaction she could have had.  The wind stabbed at her bleeding fingers.  Katara groaned and clutched them tight.  She only recognized what a mistake this was when blood gushed forth at an alarming rate.  Her other hand shook as she felt around for one of the cups.  The water jug resting next to her had all of their fresh water until tomorrow.  She hated having to waste any of it, but her choices were limited.  It wasn’t like she could use saltwater.

Cool water stung as Katara’s nimble fingers maneuvered it into a ring around her wound.  To heal herself was not a terrible strain, but she’d be out of breath before she was done.  That stupid new moon…

The pain dulled slowly, too slowly for her liking.  She drew in long, even mouthfuls of air, keeping impatience at bay long enough to stop the bleeding.  Katara let the water flow into her empty pouch for later.  She checked her heart rate- it was calmer than she expected.  The clanking of dishing and the rushing of water brought it up substantially.  Turning her head to find the source of it did nothing to help and everything to make it worse.

Even from behind, Zuko was unmistakable.  The red of his clothes was faded in the lack of light, but his pale skin and long fingers were burned into her memory.  She would be one hundred years old and remember how he looked back then clear as day.  It was not how she wanted things to be, but such was life.

“I told you, you didn’t have to do that anymore,” she snapped.  Her words bit into him- he couldn’t hide the flinching of his shoulders.  The six year old in her cheered and blew him a raspberry.

“I wanted to,” he answered.  “So you could focus on healing that cut.”

Katara managed to resist squeezing down on her finger in anger.  It was just starting to scab over; disrupting it now would only mean another day of trying to fix it and another day of Zuko trying to help where he was unwanted.

She let it slide for now.  Turning away from him, she wrapped her finger in the cloth of her dress.  The digit throbbed under pressure, but soon that disappeared as well. 

The sloshing of water against clay came to an end.  Zuko stood aside to let Katara check over his work.  She held the dishes to her face, close enough that the faint scent of clay was obvious.  Try as she might, she could see no caked on residue of their last meal.  Every plate was as clean as if the job had been done by a lifelong dishwasher, instead of a pampered prince thrown out on the curb.

“Good job,” she said.

She stacked the plates neatly for tomorrow.  Really, she should be packing them away somewhere as they surely wouldn’t be staying in this spot for much longer.  Already, Sokka was planning a route for them into the greater city of the Fire Nation.  Zuko had offered an old summer home of his family’s for them to hide out in.  Katara had to tell herself over and over again that the gratitude-like sense of joy she felt in hearing him came from the prospect of a real bed to sleep in and a proper place to store food, and that it had nothing to do with Zuko himself.

“Is there anything else you need help with?” he asked.

Katara ground her teeth.  Just the sound of his voice was making her blood boil now.  Would he ever get the point, or was he as dense as he was a liar?

“I’m fine,” she said curtly.

If he was cut once more by her tone, Katara didn’t stop to see for herself.  Now that the dishes were done, her one remaining chore was dousing the fire.  It had gone down to kindling by now anyway.  One splash of water and it was gone, taking all the light they had with it.  Any relief at not having to see Zuko’s face anymore was tarnished as his hand went up in a steady flame.  Katara shied away from the light that burned her eyes and made her skin feel hot.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“You want to find your way to camp, don’t you?”

He was right about that, said her mature and patronizing voice of reason.  Was making a fool out of herself by running into a rock or walking into the ocean in her search for camp worth bringing him down another notch? 

No, it really wasn’t.

They walked back to camp, not side by side, but too close for comfort nonetheless.  His flame flickered over her shoulder, creating a golden hue as they walked.  In the distance, Katara could see the shapes of her slumbering friends.  Her pillow and blanket were neatly laid out next to Toph’s, and her eyes droop at the mere thought of a few hours of sleep.  Total oblivion was exactly what she needed right now.  No war to worry about, no lives to fear for, no Zuko to piss her off with his every move.

“How’s your finger?”

His every word too.  Especially his every word.

“Fine,” she answered.  She stepped around Sokka’s ungracefully sprawled out and snoring body.

“Because if you need more help tomorrow-“

“I won’t.”

The light followed her no further.  Now in the dark, Katara looked back without thinking at Zuko’s still form.

“What is it?” she asked harshly.  “Nothing else to say?”

His silence was a good answer, and the only one she wanted to hear.  Even so, her feet carried her back to him instead of away.  No amount of screaming from that inner child would stop her.  She got as close as she could, maintaining a few feet between her and the flames he held.

“Well?  I’m waiting.  What makes you want to help me so much anyway when you know I don’t want you to?”

She’d bombard him with a hundred more questions if she had them.  It wouldn’t deter him, there was no doubt about that, but maybe she’d feel a little better.  A little of the weight would have shifted off her shoulders and some of her terrible rage dissipated.  That would be nice.

Of course, he would drive it right back up with whatever answer he gave, and tonight, Zuko was up to the challenge.

“I… feel like I owe it to you,” he said, withdrawing further into himself with every word, “to all of you, but to you especially.”

 Katara could’ve laughed, and maybe later she would.  The absurdity of his words- of his being here at all and this idea that he could just insert himself into their lives as an ally after over a year as their arch-enemy.  The only thing crazier than that was that it was working. 

It would have been so nice to tell him what she really thought.  She could turn right around and go on a tirade so long and so intense that it would dry up the oceans and stop the rain.  Everything that she’d been feeling since he first arrived at the temple could finally spill out of her. Maybe he’d even take a hint and leave.  She’d never have to see his face again.

And then Aang would be without a firebending teacher, and she’d have to explain his absence to everyone the next day, because for whatever reason, they all loved him now.  And of course, Katara wouldn’t really feel much better with him gone.  The child in her sure thought she would.  She kicked and screamed for Katara to get on with it, but there was a reason she wasn’t that little girl anymore.  She knew better now.

She gave him no response.  The others were all long since asleep, but the slightest disturbance would have them up and alert.  Katara paused to fix Sokka’s blankets that he’d kicked off in his sleep.  They’d be off again by morning, but no one could blame her for trying.  Katara shoved her hand into her pocket.  Even healed, that finger ached noticeably.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

Katara closed and then opened her eyes, reluctantly turning her head.

“Do what?”

Zuko motioned at her hand in her pocket, and from his own pulled a tiny bundle of bandages.

“Use this instead, so you don’t get an infection.”

He held it out to her, but Katara didn’t take it.  She eyed him, openly suspicious.

“I already healed it, you know,” she said.  “Where did you even get that?”

Zuko shrugged, nerves clearly getting to him.  Katara hated to admit it, but on anyone else, that face would be kind of adorable.

“I always carry some first-aid supplies,” he sheepishly explained.  “I started back when I was traveling alone, just in case of an emergency.  I don’t have much- I had to pack light, but if you need more, I’ve got it.”

Katara nodded once and made no move to take his offering.  Still, he didn’t take it back, and though he would no long meet her eyes, it was clear from his stance that he had no intention of moving.  Katara’s fingers flexed a few times.  She took it in one swift motion, so fast that even she wasn’t aware of what she’d done until she heard Zuko bid her goodnight, saw him walk away, and felt the weight of the cloth-like roll in her hand.

She fell asleep that night with her hand firmly under her pillow and the banged roll at her side, several inches shorter.  She wouldn’t look at Zuko the next morning as she fielded questions from the others about her finger, and he never said a word about it; not when they were eating or when he was cleaning off the glasses afterwards while Katara cleaned the plates.

**Author's Note:**

> skylar0grace's wish list was as follows: 
> 
> 1\. Here We Go Again - Demi Lovato  
> 2\. Twilight  
> 3\. Injured!Katara  
> 4\. Ingratiate  
> 5\. What To Do - Demi Lovato
> 
> This story was mostly number 3 with a little bit of number 4 integrated. There's also a smattering of number 2 since this story starts at twilight. I'm assuming you meant the time of day and not the books. If you meant the books, I apologize.


End file.
